


Yesterday

by thedra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Abandonment, Drabble, Family, Shock, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 18:22:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4069948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedra/pseuds/thedra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Petunia: November 2, 1981.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yesterday

Yesterday she had a nephew whose name she didn't know. Yesterday her sister was alive. Today there is a baby lying on her doorstep waiting to be picked up with the milk.

She screams. Of course she screams. Who wouldn't?

She is mortified someone has abandoned this beautiful child on a chilly November morning...or possibly in the night...exactly how long has he been exposed to the elements? And who would do such a thing?

Maybe it was a local teen? She'd heard the story about the terrified young girl who'd thrown an unwanted infant into a dumpster, of course...and by comparison, her doorstep is much safer than a dumpster...but she just never imagined she'd ever be part of something so dreadful...

For several shocked moments, all she can do is wonder why whoever it was chose her doorstep: _What will Vernon say? What will the neighbors think? Has anyone seen the baby yet? The milkman must have...why hasn't he notified the police?_

The baby is looking up at her with bright green eyes. Swaddled in blue flannel blankets and unnervingly quiet, his chubby little fingers are curled around a letter without a postmark. He seems to be about the same age as her ickle Dudleykins.

Gathering her wits, she picks him up, carries him inside, and holds her hand to his forehead to test his temperature, which fortunately seems normal, but in the process, she notices there is a jagged cut above his right eye. Someone has hurt him, she realizes with a rush of anger. Someone hurt this little boy and then abandoned him to freeze on her doorstep.

She stalks toward the kitchen, intending to phone the police immediately, but then something stops her: those eyes are disconcertingly familiar, and she recognizes the letter as parchment, so she hesitates long enough to read it. As she does, she nearly drops the baby in surprise.  _Lily is dead._ A wizard has murdered her impossibly sweet, freakish, irritatingly perfect sister.

_**Lily is dead.** _

Yesterday her sister had been resented and willfully forgotten, but alive nonetheless. 

Today her sister is dead, and there is a baby in her arms looking up at her with wide, doleful green eyes. 

Today she doesn't have the luxury of not knowing her nephew's name. 

She screams.

She's never been so angry in her life.

 


End file.
